


hello, sunshine

by jasondean



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, ill ad more tags probably as i need them lol sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-14 04:59:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7154573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasondean/pseuds/jasondean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the summer before kurts senior year is approaching quickly, leaving him to face all of the problems that caused him to leave mckinley in the first place, including a bully, teachers that like seeing him fail, a nagging best friend, and the drama of glee club hes somehow missed the brunt of for the blissfully peaceful past six months; so, a distraction in the form of blaine anderson has come at the perfect time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

kurt always knew that home school was just a temporary solution. and if he didnt at first, he surely did now, what with his dad drilling the idea into his head every hour of every day --  _this isnt forever, kid. youll have to get back on that horse._

the thing is, a half-year ago, going back to mckinley seemed like something way into the distant future; hed wake up on the first day of senior year and suddenly it would be they year 2100, complete with new self-driving cars and butler robots. the idea that in a few short months, hell actually be back there -- for real, and not in some recurring series of dreams and nightmares, is completely foreign. admittedly, its a little unwelcome.

six months ago, kurt was in another state of mind. he was tired, depressed, paranoid; his whole life at that point in time seemed like something he was just floating through, like some dream he couldnt simply pinch himself out of no matter how hard he tried. bullies have never bothered kurt before. after all, his whole life has been a series of different people attempting to knock him down. first, it was his second grade teacher -- at first it was his outspokenness that got under the graying educators skin, and then his flamboyance was what he was punished for and lectured on. then came other kids, the whole elementary school that seemed to suddenly be clued in that how he acted wasnt _normal_. and there were so many others, ranging from adults that were supposed to protect and encourage him to random strangers he passed by on the street to former friends turned sour to classmates he was barely interested in speaking a word to... it bothered him, sure, (really, it still bothers him) but getting the last word in, outlasting all the bitterness a tiny section of lima could throw at him -- it all made him feel more accomplished and proud. every brick that was meant to bruise him instead built him up.

david karofsky shouldnt have been any different. he was the most stereotypical of bullies; a meathead jock with such a lack in his way with words, it was laughable. it shouldnt have been a big deal.

but for some reason, it was.

karofskys attacks, compared to all the others kurt had ever endured in his seventeen years on earth, seemed personal.  _deeply_ personal _._ and more than that, they seemed undeniably malicious. for anyone else he encountered, their taunts and threats were mostly out of boredom or genuine (though misdirected) concern for his well-being and future. 

it seemed like all this random, normally quiet football player wanted was to see kurt suffer. and suffer, he did. for months, it was a sick cycle of intimidation and confrontation and a punch or two thrown (but not enough, never enough, to serve as evidence for any kind of misdeed) and intimidation again. it was just a nuisance at first. then it was a constant on his mind, clouding and inching its way into every one of his thoughts. it got to the point where he began adjusting his daily route from his locker to his classes so he could avoid karofsky for another minute or another hour before they inevitably crossed paths again.

he told finn first. some scolding in the locker room didnt work, and neither did the near all-out brawl shortly after. mr schue coaxed what was happening out of him next, but there wasnt anything he could do. his dad and step-mom, then the whole glee club was clued in; it became that much of a problem. 

like everything else, kurt was convinced it would pass if he just stuck it through. him telling karofsky to fuck off wasnt working. none of the school staff besides mr schue seemed to care, much less have the power to do anything to stop the torment. avoiding karofsky was a near impossible task that just ended up feeling like a game of cat and mouse, where karofsky was the hunter and kurt was the prey. finns presence didnt deter his mission at all.

the moment kurt realized it wasnt going to end was one day in the locker room. he was sick of it all, the constant fear that one day karofsky would follow through on his more serious threats or something worse, all while having to deal with the embarrassment of his friends attempting to coddle him. 

_what is your_  problem _?! you wont fucking win, you know that, right? leave me alone. you dont have anything to gain from this... this bullshit! you wont ever get why im a faggot and i wont ever get why youre a jerk, so why are we doing this? why are_ you  _doing this? you cant punch the gay out of me, just like i cant punch the ignoramus out of you._

in that moment, with his face red and his hands balled into fists at his side, he felt a slight calm amidst his exploding frustration. this was where he was supposed to win. karofsky would beat the living hell out of him, but hed be okay, because he survived this, and it wont matter anymore after that.

there werent any punches or kicks or shoves. there was just lips -- slim, dry, cracked lips -- on his. and that was way worse than any sucker punch karofsky could have thrown.

alone in the locker room, kurt realized then. this hate wasnt necessarily towards  _him;_ it was towards karofsky himself. kurt was just simply the only outlet he could find. thats when, with a sinking feeling, he realized it would never end. hating other people is way easier than hating yourself. 

so, his grades slipped. he lost his appetite. he became snappy and annoyed at everyone around him. he lost interest in everything, and in glee especially. the one club he enjoyed and counted on as a safe space suddenly felt like a chore.

this didnt go unnoticed by his dad. he yelled a lot, at first. he demanded kurt try harder, and that he stop moping, because this stupid kid that was pestering him was going to be expelled soon enough. when he didnt get a reaction, he got worried.  _very_ worried. he simply went silent; kurt didnt really care either way.

he brought up home school one day over dinner; it wasnt a traditional dining table affair with carole and finn, but more a boys night out. kurt and his dad hit up in-n-out, the one greasy fast-food place either of them really would allow themselves (especially after burts heart attack scare). they were sitting in his dads truck in the parking lot of the place when he asked kurt if he was happy. there was a pause, and then kurt said he wasnt. his dad asked if hed be happier away from mckinley. kurt got defensive, about his friends there and glee club, and then his dad corrected himself -- would he be happier away from karofsky? kurt was silent. but it was a sort of silent that spoke louder than any answer he couldve given.

so, home school was the answer, the band-aid over the bruise until it wears off. kurt always knew that he will be going to mckinley for his senior year, he just doesnt get how damn  _fast_ it sneaked up on him. two semesters of online courses from the public online school completed from home or the library or wherever the hell else he can get an internet connection and then thats it; welcome back, mckinley!

technically, its not summer yet. kurt hasnt even taken his finals yet -- to be honest, the idea of adjusting back to the structure of mckinley and the very real threat of karofskys bullying is way more time consuming than a couple of exams.

earlier that day, kurt and his dad had a conversation that had begun to pop up increasingly often;

"dad, why cant i just do my senior year online, too? its way more convenient, and im doing so well, and im way more happy, and--"

"kurt, youre _barely_ getting out of the house, and you think i dont know youre screwing off most of the time? dont look so damn shocked, i know what the 'ad' in 'adhd' stands for."

"...did i mention i love spending all this extra time with you in the shop?"

"can it. youre going back to mckinley -- hey, no,  _dont._ youll be  _fine._ youll have your friends and that glee club and all of those competitions they have. yknow finns been begging you to go back for glee."

"i--"

"dont fight this. at least see how glee is doing, like finns been asking you. then  _maybe_ we can talk about it again."

with that, kurt made a show of rolling his eyes, grabbing his computer bag and looping it over his shoulder, and stomping out of the house -- all tied up with slamming the front door.

"kurt, get your ass back here!"

"im going to the lima bean! getting out of the house!" 

now, kurt sits at a table in the lima bean, his laptop in front of him and his bag slung over the back of his chair. its not so bad, he thinks to himself. theres free wi-fi, and his dad isnt making an effort to hover over him when he has the time too to make sure he isnt neglecting his work. (what? its not like anyone, learning disabled or not, can go through three hours of french with no bouts of boredom.) really, no ones making an effort to bother him. and, he has enough money for coffee, something his dad is fiercely against since it makes him two times as jittery as usual; but, hey, its not like the combination of a cup of coffee and some adderall is fatal.

"kurt?"

at the sound of the barista calling his name, he moves out of his chair to retrieve his drink, not bothering to pack his laptop away. its not like anyone can get super far with a swiped laptop as long as he has his eye on it, and besides, the moment a potential thief catches sight of school work on the screen, theyll be repelled instantly. 

there are a few people making orders or waiting to make orders when he goes to pick up his latte. its only when he has his cup in his hands and turns away does one of the idlers catch his eye. 

hes a bit on the short side, although not extremely so, with neat hair that lays flat on his head (excluding a few curls that peak out here and there) with the assistance of what kurt can tell is some sort of strong hold gel. he has an easy smile that kurt finds himself somehow gravitating towards; resting nice face is the first thing that comes to mind. his dark eyes and dark, thick brows would normally make him seem unapproachable if it werent for that, he thinks. 

this random stranger that has caught kurts gaze is undeniably handsome, for sure, but that isnt the reason why he stops to stare. the guy is clad in a clean pressed navy blue uniform accentuated with red details. its not that kurt has been struck by how fashionable someone waiting at a coffee shop counter is, but he recognizes the uniform. he stalls, trying to place his finger on where its from.

"blaine?"

the baristas voice sounding again snaps kurt out of his thoughts. as soon as the name is spoken, the boy he has been staring at for the past minute or so moves forward to get his order. still, kurts puzzled; the name blaine doesnt sound familiar in the slightest.

his gaze follows blaine shamelessly as he comes up to the counter, getting the styrofoam cup of steaming coffee in his hands. he seems to be trying to ignore kurts stare, because hes polite or uncomfortable, its hard to tell.

"you go to dalton?" kurt says suddenly, the uniform finally clicking with him. blaine turns towards him; hes still as stunning up close as he was from afar. 

a smile lights up his face. "yeah, i do!" he looks completely over the moon to be talking about the academy. if theres one thing kurts learned in life, its that asking questions and giving people a chance to talk about themselves is the best way to make friends and connections. this blaine fellow seems to be one of those types that can go on for hours and hours as long as the topic on-hand is something hes invested in; luckily, kurt is the same way.

one of the other customers rudely mutters something along the lines of kurt and blaine blocking the counter as they go to get an order. embarrassed, the two move away, down to where they can have their choice of a whole rainbow of splenda packets and straws.

"you know about dalton?" blaine questions as soon as theyre out of the way. "i mean, of course you do. were one of the best schools in the state, not to mention the oldest in lima. are you thinking about going to school here? its really a great, great school, theres  _so_ many opportunities, and--"

"no, no, i just recognized the uniform from regionals. uh, the regional show choir competition," kurt explains. "i dont have the kind of money for a private school like dalton," he adds.

"how about a charter school?" blaines face falls as kurt shakes his head no. "oh, god. public school? i mean, theres nothing wrong with that, of course, but..." he trails off, leaving kurt to believe there  _is_ something wrong with that.

"kind of, ive actually been doing courses online for the past semester or something like that."

"online?"

"well, yeah. im actually supposed to be doing some work right now."

"oh, shit. sorry for distracting you," blaine apologizes quickly.

"no, no, its fine..." kurts gaze scans blaine again. for some reason, hes  _really_ digging the uniform, and he doesnt mind listening to this guy for a bit; his voice is incredibly dreamy. its not like hes  _looking_ for a way to avoid school, really... but his dad has made lots of comments about him keeping in touch with his friends. so, why not make a new one to get him off his back? "want to sit down with me? ive never met a dalton boy."

blaine accepts the invitation eagerly and follows kurt to where he was sitting previously, taking a glance at the boys open laptop. kurt watches him as his eyes scan the screen and struggle to decode the words.

"french," kurt provides when blaine turns to him to ask what the class is.

"hm. im more of a spanish guy myself."

blaine sits across from kurt, who decides to close his laptop and push it aside. hey, he doesnt want to be rude, right?

"dalton... that has to be... something," kurt says, looking over at blaine as he takes the first sip from his coffee. "the a capella group i saw in competition was really good."

"oh, the warblers? yeah, we are really good," he agrees with the slight trace of a smirk on his lips.

" _we_ , huh? i guess i could peg you as a choir boy," kurt muses. "let me rephrase -- you were really good for a group that didnt win first place."

blaine shakes his head and scoffs. "what, are you going to judge my entire school based on one trophy? maybe i should be judging you for being the type of guy who goes to show choir competitions." kurt smiles at his teasing tone; thats something he could get used to.

"i was there supporting my brother and my friends, who, by the way, were on the team you lost to." that seems to shut him up. kurt laughs, and blaine cracks a smile as well.

"mckinleys new directions, huh?" he says. "tell your brother he wasnt too shabby."

"wasnt too shabby? i think youre forgetting they  _won_." blaine rolls his eyes, smiling still. "so, dalton is basically american hogwarts with a really intense a capella group?"

"no!" blaine insists. "i mean, you arent  _wrong,_ but daltons so much more than that. its just this amazing place founded in tradition... its just such a great environment. everyones so accepting and supportive but nothings lenient, and the teachers really bear down on you, but its all great because we get the best test scores. tuitions pricey, sure, but i think its an investment worth making."

"how do you guys deal with the all boys situation? sounds like a breeding ground for the gays."

kurts tone is still sarcastic, but blaine suddenly wears a stone cold expression and sits up a little straighter. "what, is there something wrong with that?"

"what?"

"with being gay?" blaine demands, giving kurt an uncomfortable glare.

"no, no, sorry, um... no. it was a joke," he says, swallowing hard.

"it wasnt a good joke."

"i just... it was supposed to be ironic, because  _im_ gay, you know? i guess you wouldnt know. i just met you. you dont even know my name, i dont think."

blaines unfriendly stance melts away immediately. "oh. oh! you shouldve said something before you said that, god, i totally convinced myself you were a douchey straight guy!"

"are you joking? do i  _look_ straight to you?" kurt asks, mocking offense as he leans back and gestures to himself.

"hey, i dont stereotype! and, by the way, the all boys situation sort of sucks because im the only gay guy i know. youd think there would be all these opportunities to meet cute guys and flirt, but  _nope_ , for some reason, theyre all straight," he says, shaking his head slightly.

"wait, youre gay?" kurt pipes up, his eyes wide with something similar to wonder or awe.

"yeah," blaine says. "i guess both of our gaydars are broken."

"sure," kurt says, unable to keep his eyes off blaine. he doesnt understand why the idea that this boy hes just met could actually be into boys is so surprising to him, and he doesnt understand why it makes him that much more interested. blaine being gay means there are also other gay kids in lima, something kurt thought was impossible for some reason. that means there are boys out there that kurt can pursue and have some sort of chance at reciprocating feelings for him, which is a thought that hasnt ever crossed his mind. its not like he hasnt had crushes on other boys before (hell, hes a gay teenager, if he didnt, he might get worried), but they all seemed like dead-ends because of the whole hetero thing. hes sort of followed the spaghetti rule with boys -- straight until wet -- but it leads to more heartbreak than the whole experience of going after a crush is worth. 

"its kurt," blaine says, seemingly random, after silence stretches between them for a few minutes.

kurt gives him a dumbfound look.

"you said i probably dont even know your name, but i do. its kurt, isnt it? the barista said 'kurt', then you went up and got your coffee," he explains.

"oh, yeah. yeah," kurt says.

"something wrong? was my gaydar comment not funny or something? you seem really distracted or spacey... like you might cry or something like that. please dont cry," blaine adds.

kurt shakes his head quickly. "im fine! its just, ive never met another gay guy before. i mean, in real life. its like finding a unicorn," he says.

blaine laughs. "what, do you want an autograph or something?"

kurt rolls his eyes and smiles. "no thanks."

"how about my number?"

without missing a beat, kurt pushes forward a napkin and throws a pen lodged in his bag to him. he cant keep the smile off his face as he watches blaines hand grip his pen. 


	2. Chapter 2

"you know, you really should _call_ before showing up at someones house."

kurt stands on the doorsteps of a house painted layers of dull sky blue in one of the richer suburbs lima has to offer, catching a glimpse of rachel berry standing behind a partially opened front door. she sounds more annoyed than he would have expected, although he isnt quite surprised. considering its the end of the school year, anything and everything can (and will) provoke rachel. more likely than not, her (not uncharacteristic) nagging to him isnt much his fault as it is some sort of stress pushed on her by school and all the relationships its opened up for her.

"were friends, arent we?" he asks breezily.

"friends should call before showing up at other friends houses," rachel repeats, cracking the door open all the way; it doesnt make a sound kurt can pick up on, not a squeak, not a creak, nothing. the fact he even notices the silence probably lets on where his roots are; not that food and living space is so much of an issue for him, but keeping doors well oiled hasnt ever been a priority as far as kurt remembers. 

"next time ill send word by pigeon, then," he says, scaling the stairs to the door. rachel moves aside to let him in, her annoyance melting away as soon as he steps foot into the house.

the entrance to the berrys residence is spotless, leaving kurt wondering if maybe rachels dads (or even rachel herself) cleaned up a bit in the time he was left waiting at the door; or maybe theyre just that orderly. in the short moment hes spent observing what he can see of her house, rachel has made her way behind kurt to direct him to her room, basically pushing him to the staircase.

he mumbles something about her impatience being insufferable, to which she pretends she doesnt hear.

rachels room is the familiar stereotypically girly mess of things as it is every time kurt has been over. maybe rachel actually sleeps in the basement and she rents out her bedroom to be lived in and decorated by a five year old girl. it wouldnt be that much of a stretch.

"i just didnt want to go home," kurt explains, glancing around the room before catching his reflection in rachels vanity. a collection of different powders and creams litters the thing, obviously played with despite rachel having never gotten into the habit of wearing a full face on the daily. he moves to sit and lay back on rachels unmade bed, staring up at her ceiling. its decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars. (shed bought a pack at target for three bucks in the beginning of the year and kurt got the rejects of the collection, which remain somewhere on the bottom drawer of his desk.)

"what, youre having trouble with your dad?"

"maybe. no, not really. were fine," he says. he adjusts his gaze to focus on rachel, who is searching through a white armoire without so much as a speck of dirt on it. she pops back out with a huge, unopened bag of gummy sharks, and then plops down on the bed next to kurt, carefully tearing the bag open with her nails and sitting it between them. "rachel berry, youre one of a kind," he sighs, digging a hand into the bag and stuffing a shark into his mouth while a handful more of the colorful fish sits on his chest.

"you have to be prepared for everything."

"and yet somehow even me ringing your doorbell catches you off-guard."

she doesnt reply, instead chewing on a gummy to excuse herself of a retort.

"how do you know those are kosher?"

"if its not your dad, is it finn? i can talk to him."

"no, its not finn," kurt says, a little annoyed his attempt at steering away from the topic didnt work. he didnt even really realize he was doing it at first; the whole getting off-topic thing, anyway. a subconscious defense mechanism, probably preferable to the usual catty cynicism. "i just feel like im trapped in a box and someone forgot to poke in some air holes. its too stuffy at home when youre there every day, and its getting to me. i know im pissing off my dad and finn and carole all the time because of it so i just thought id get out and give them a break too, yknow? win-win."

"okay," rachel says, nodding slowly as she accepts the answer. "you cant sleep over, though."

"wasnt planning on it." 

"why do you even invite yourself over if you dont like spending time with me?"

"rachel, youre a bit like salt. youre really good in small quantities, but if i have too much ill probably throw up, and you probably raise my blood pressure."

she sniffs. "like youre any better. let me know when you find someone who can tolerate more than an hour of you yapping on about lady gaga and lana del rey and obscure gay musicals no one cares about."

"look, rachel,  _i_ care ab--"

hes interrupted by a short buzz and a  _ding_ sounding from the phone resting in his back pocket. he pulls it out, barely reading the screen, as he has become hyper aware of rachels stare on him. its nothing scandalous (kurt hasnt gotten any action in... never. hes never gotten any action), but hes never been able to surf the web or play on a phone or a tablet with someone watching him. its an issue hes had ever since he was little, when his dad would make a habit of staring over his shoulder when he would play on their home desktop and snooping through his browser history. (this led to an especially awkward conversation when a curious thirteen year old kurt had stumbled upon gay porn and was so enamored with the stuff hed forgotten to wipe the digital evidence.)

"who is it?" rachel pries.

"no one," kurt says shortly, locking his phone after reading the text. what displays is a long number and a message; 

_Hey kurt, thanks for texting me!! It was so nice to meet you. Oh btw this is blaine from the coffee shop. Gay blaine. Do you know any straight blaines? I dont. Anyway plz text back, we should get coffee again sometime. Ill pay if u wanna split that big ass cookie they always have in the display box :-) xx_

who uses a smiley face (with a  _nose_ ) instead of an emoji, anyways? has kurt time-traveled back to 2005?

its endearingly dumb, enough so to make kurt smile. and rachel, with her hawk eyes trained on him, leaps at it.

"who was that? did you get the positivity text ive been sending to everyone that says youll get with your crush if you send it to fifteen people by the end of the day? who sent it to you? was it tina? oh my god, i bet it was tina. tina isnt so bad, you know?"

"no--"

"if it isnt, who was it? was it a boy? it  _was_ a boy! oh my god, do you have a boyfriend? like, a boyfriend boyfriend, not a friend whos a boy, like, a guy you--"

"rachel, it was no one," kurt snaps at her. he protests as she attempts, and succeeds, at snatching kurts phone. he watches, vaguely impressed, as she gets his password right in the first few tries.

"it  _is_ a boy!" she says when she finds the text, sounding proud of herself. "did you go on a date today? kurt, why didnt you tell me? i feel like im missing all these milestones in your life and its so depressing..."

"no, no," kurt says, prying his phone from rachels hands with annoyance. "i just made a friend is all."

"doesnt sound like you."

"i _love_ how supportive and kind you are, rachel."

"no! i mean like -- ugh, forget it. do you think hes boyfriend material?"

kurt shrugs. "i dont really  _know_ him."

"like, physically? first impression wise?"

"oh, yeah," kurt replies, pausing to scoop up a shark that got lost in the sheets during rachel and kurts struggle for the phone. "seems nice enough, and hes cute. its just nice to have someone to talk to that isnt from mckinley, you know?"

"ooh. a mysterious outsider," rachel says, wiggling her brows. "whats his name? where does he go?"

"blaine. he goes to dalton academy, this super fancy private school -- i mean, i think its pretty fancy, because they have these really nice uniforms and academys in the name. anyway, he said he was at regionals, he was with--"

"the warblers!" rachel finishes his sentence. "oh my  _god,_ kurt, dont you know who he  _is_?"

"hes... blaine...?"

"blaine anderson," rachel provides. "hes blaine anderson, captain of the warblers. hes this young hot shot solo hog."

"sounds like someone i know."

"kurt, hes  _really_ good," she says, lowering her voice, as if blaine and the rest of the warblers might be listening through the walls. "i mean, im pretty sure we were probably nearly tied during regionals. like, flip-a-coin tied."

"...are you saying its a fluke you guys won?"

"no!" rachel says immediately. "no, im just... im just saying, theyre gonna be really good in a years time. we need to watch out for them," she says fiercely. "i cant believe you dont know this! havent you been keeping up with the show choir blogs?! just because you arent at school doesnt mean you get to slack off at glee."

"sorry, my mistake, i wasnt aware i had an assignment for a glee club im not apart of."

"you  _are_ going to be in glee again next year! right?"

"i dont even know if im going to be going t--"

kurt swallows his frustration as rachel interrupts him. "anyway, you cant hang around this guy. hes going to be looking for ways to take us down."

"excuse me?" kurt scoffs. "he didnt even know i was apart of new directions until i said so."

"oh, great. whend you tell him, kurt?"

"what?"

"before or after he gave you his number?" rachel looks quizzically at kurt. he looks away from her burning gaze, feeling anger stir in his stomach. its like she forgets that the whole world doesnt give a fuck about some singing competitions, and that glee isnt always on everyone elses mind. its no wonder shes so hard to get along with; she punishes you if you arent on the same wavelength as her 24/7. its utterly exhausting.

"before, i guess, but look--"

"he just wants to get some dirt on us," she growls. "play with our heads."

"are you  _kidding_?"

"no, kurt, im not! remember jesse?"

"that was different."

"you dont know that," rachel shoots back. "you dont think i thought that jesse was so obsessed with winning hed go through the trouble of playing double-agent and pretending to like me, do you? cause, guess what, i didnt."

kurt sits up and slides off of the bed, pushing his phone into his back pocket and refusing to look back at rachel. "you always make a big deal out of such trivial shit."

"you always think youre better than me, dont you? more smart. more mature. more level-headed. thats all in your head, kurt -- this whole holier-than-thou attitude of yours, thats the reason why no one really wants to be more than your classmate or your acquaintance. because you dont treat _anyone_ like an equal!"

"you cant tell me who to hang out with, rachel. youre not the queen of glee club, christ -- just stop being such a control freak." he ignores rachels criticisms of him on purpose, not wanting to go through the effort to debunk her spiel, especially when it holds some truth. he hides any sign that it even effected him, because, despite rachel being a friend, he doesnt quite trust her enough to let her know when hes hurt.

he sighs loudly, making his way to the door.

"just dont come crawling back to me when he cracks an egg over that empty head of yours."

he doesnt look back before slamming the door shut.

**Author's Note:**

> this started out as "well, what if blaine and kurt didnt meet when they did? what if they met a bit later?" and then turned into "why dont i just put a lot of my Entire Life into kurts past and see what happens" and then became "well no ones gonna want to read this lolwhatever"
> 
> kudos and comments are greatly appreciated and the best way to my heart


End file.
